Sundays
by angelhazel
Summary: one-shot, consider the two sweeties stuck together on Sundays for a long long time ...rnRyosaku , as if i would write anything else.


Disclaimer : the usual

A/N: just wondered what would happen if Ryoma and Sakuno were stuck on a permanent schedule for Sunday tennis lessons …

* * *

Year 1:

He was reluctant,but it was a direct order from his Oyaji. And the cunning monk had already plotted for him to "receive" his Thank-you present – one measly pan.

So, technically speaking, he had already accepted the assignment. Vaguely, he wondered how long this would go on, his Oyaji never did mention whether this was only for this Sunday or the next and the next ….. his brain went into Sleep mode as his thoughts went down that lane.

Tomorrow was soon enough to worry about that. Right now he had to keep an eye on the pig-tailed girl practicing in front of him.

Her form was simply terrible. He commented in his usual droll voice, and was annoyed that she was not following his instructions.

"Knees too straight."

"Shoulders too stiff."

She seemed to get worse with each comment, rather than improving, her form was rapidly breaking down.

Sigh. What's the problem with girls that they can't follow simple instructions?

Hopefully this was the only time he had to sacrifice his Sunday morning to watch her terrible play.

"Stop there. Go for a run, 5 laps around these courts."

He gave her the new task off-handedly and turned to get himself a Ponta to while away the boring morning.

Boring Sunday morning, he could have made better use of this time to sleep in or play with his cat.

* * *

Year 2:

When did this turn into a routine thing? He hadn't had a whole Sunday to himself since their first year in school. 52 Sundays in a year, and he had spent most of them with her the year before.

She was improving a little. Although he had to admire her perseverance, he couldn't yet find anything to compliment her about in her tennis.

He had a sinking feeling he knew where he would be for each of the next 52 Sundays in his life.

He was still in two minds about the discovery he made late last year. He was sitting bored as usual, as she practiced. He had let his eyes go unfocused since he really had his fill of her poor techniques; and then he noticed the way her hair flew about her as she swung the racket, the way drops of sweat slipped down her face, her neck, disappearing into her shirt. And he noticed how her skirt would lift every time she changed her footwork.

He had to make himself look away. Somewhere deep inside, the part of him that was left untainted by his pervert of a father, he knew that it wasn't proper to keep staring at her pink panties.

He had shot off his seat and quickly gotten himself a cold Ponta to cool his blood.

But the Sunday training continued, and he had to find a way to deal with this new problem that had presented itself. The only solution he found was no solution; he simply kept quiet, alternately stared and turned away.

While he rather enjoyed having something other than her tennis to focus on, he found he was feeling guilty most of the time he was there.

He hoped it was a phase and would pass soon. It didn't do for Echizen Ryoma to wake up to wet dreams almost every day.

* * *

Year 3:

He had decided that she didn't need a coach. She needed a sports therapist.

He, the ace and buchou of Seigaku, had taught her religiously every week for more than 2 years and this is the results of 2 years worth of Sundays.

He finally realized that there was something wrong with her anatomy somewhere, otherwise she couldn't still be this bad after this long.

It started with him getting pissed off enough to get up and position himself behind her so he could control her arms.

Then his noble intention was quickly forgotten in favor of investigating her body. He told himself he should find out precisely what was wrong with her that made her so difficult to teach.

And soon, he was kissing and touching her right there on the courts. She felt too good for him to let go, and since they weren't doing anything constructive anyway, he figured he rather continue the kissing etc.

At least this made him feel good. At least this gave him something more than occasional glimpses of her panties.

After that, he always looked forward to the Sunday sessions with her. He figured he could leave her tennis to the experts in sports therapy institutions; he had done all he could in that department.

He had better things to do with her on those Sunday mornings.

owari-

* * *

A/N: yah, lame, short and not rounded out at all, totally no plot. Feeling lazy. Let's just assume Sakuno was more than happy to accommodate the change in their Sunday schedule.

Ahhh! I want to change her more-than-accommodating character! But just not this time, lazy …

Anyone figured my obsession out yet? I think I am rather stuck on grabbing those two cuties and throwing them into a bedroom, then lockthe door and swallow the key... rather sad that they are so young, goes against the grain to have twelve years olds act out the -ahh-hmm- stories i can think up.

anyways, go ahead, flame me for being lazy, or watever. I am almost as good as Ryoma at ignoring people :)


End file.
